Chapter 18

Ch. 18: Etiquette Lessons

I’m surprised by Mrs. Laroche’s sudden appearance, but that doesn’t stop me from dropping into an abrupt curtsey in the hopes of softening the deep scowl on her face. She looks like she wants to hit me with the parasol hung from her wrist.

I’ve watched the maids of the Rose Palace curtsey to me since I’ve arrived, so I’d like to think my mimicry isn’t too bad. But Mrs. Laroche is not impressed in the slightest.

“Poor posture, straighten your neck,” she instantly commands. As I adjust myself to do as she says, the imposing woman storms past me towards the Rose Palace with a few sharp last words.

“Your highness, you are of higher rank than me. It is not necessary to curtsey,” she throws over her shoulders. The maids who were trailing me scatter in her warpath and I gulp nervously. She reminds me of a certain, military-trained math teacher I had back in middle school who would force students to do 10 push-ups for every minute they were late to class. I can only wave a quick goodbye to a similarly bewildered Finn before rushing after Mrs. Laroche and dreading the next hour or so she will be here.

Inside the sitting room of the Rose Palace where I had previously met with Empress Katya, it doesn’t go much better for me. Mrs. Laroche drops into a curtsey that is as austere and unforgiving as she is, her back ramrod straight, and her gray eyes burning into mine.

“When I was hired to teach you, I was told that you have absolutely no experience in regards to etiquette. I can see that this is true,” she begins sourly.

My left eyelid twitches at the jab but I just demurely answer, “Yes.”

“Yes, madam,” she immediately corrects. “You must always learn to address others by their name. I am nobility, as the baron’s sister, but since I am acting in the role of your governess and etiquette teacher, simply call me, Mrs. Laroche or Madam, as I am married.”

.....

I nod obediently, afraid to say another word lest I find myself in even more trouble. It seems to be the right move as her frosty face warms a fraction and she launches into a speech about how to address others as a princess of the Empire.

“A bastard you may be, but you are of royal blood nonetheless. It is absolutely imperative that you carry yourself in a manner that does not put the royal family in shame and will put you in a favorable position for marriage,” Mrs. Laroche instructs right away.

Marriage? I choke on spit at the word and whack my chest for air. As far as I recall, Winter never had any marriage prospects as she was deemed as a useless, bastard princess. There was no political advantage in marrying her as neither the emperor or empress favored her and she was a good-for-nothing. My governess frowns at my coughing.

“Unladylike,” she mutters, but not so quietly that I can’t hear it clear as day. “If you find yourself in need of coughing or sneezing, you must use a handkerchief to cover your mouth and immediately exit the room if it will be noisy.”

“Yes, madam,” I reply in a croaky voice. The next hour is utterly excruciating. I’m always down for a snack, but Mrs. Laroche proceeded to order tea even though it was mid-morning and barked at me every time I used a certain utensil wrong. Apparently, I’ve been buttering my scones incorrectly, I slurp too much when I sip from the cup, and I need to cross my legs a certain way. By the end of the hour, I’ve figured out her favorite word.

“Unladylike!”

“Very unladylike!”

“Bite delicately. Otherwise, you will look unladylike!”

The “Madam” had left as she came, storming out in the most elegant way possible. I’m old enough mentally to see that under her harsh training methods she is actually helpful, but I still annoyed at the treatment. I was such a tomboy in my past life so I’m certain these lessons will only get worse.

“Unladylike this, unladylike that!” I whine as I slither off the white sofa in a, you guessed it, unladylike way. Marie walks in with a sympathetic expression on her face so I know she was able to hear most if not all of my lesson.

“Your highness, would you still like lunch after this tea session?” she asks.

“Yes!” I say a little too emphatically. With all the nitpicking Mrs. Laroche did, I was hardly able to enjoy the meager side dishes that accompany the tea. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to enjoy a cup of tea in the future if I follow all the rigid rules of afternoon tea.

Before long, Marie and the maids wheel in a covered tray with steam wafting from underneath the lid. The smell is absolutely mouthwatering, I can detect some meat and the scent of decent seasoning. Within my first few days of arriving here, I had a word with the chef about the scant flavors on the food. What can I say? I was from a Columbian mom and a Mexican dad, I’m all about spicy, flavorful dishes.

Marie lifts the silver lid and I’m greeted by a tasty meat pie with thick, flaky crust. I indicate for Marie to sit with me as I chow down immediately.

“What do you know about Mrs. Laroche, Marie?” I ask right away.

Marie seems a little taken aback by my sudden questioning, but goes with the stride.

“She is Baron Verdis’ half-sister, your highness.” Marie answers.

“Half?” I ask in surprise. Marie nods.

“Then why does she act so...” I trail off, but the context is clear. Why does she act so high and mighty when at the end of the day, she is a bastard child like me?

Marie seems to understand what I’m implying. “Well, she’s known to be a very good governess and is exceptionally good at straightening out the most uncouth of young ladies. Not that you’re one of them, your highness. Also, the Spring Ball shall arrive shortly and you will require intense training to conduct yourself properly.”

I nod, distracted by the delicious flavors in my mouth.

“Tell me about this Spring Ball, Marie,” I request as I take another oversized bite.

Marie bites her lips, desperately rummaging up anything she knows about the topic.

“Erm... It is one of the biggest events for nobility in the Empire, second only to the Royal Banquet in the fall... and...”

The sweet woman fumbled with her words, her forehead crumpled as she thought hard. Her cheeks brightened as another thought occurred to her.

“Oh! And the popular magazines in Radovalsk write many articles about the dresses women wear.”

Her voice fades out quickly and I think she can see my disappointment at her lackluster answer and her face falls.

“You don’t know much about the palace,” I say offhandedly.

“I’m sorry that I am not knowledgeable about affairs in the palace, your highness. I was only a simple laundry maid with little formal education, matters of the palace did not concern me as long as I performed my duties properly. However, my meager knowledge now fails to inform you on the current matters of the Empire. Please punish me as you wish!” Marie replies on the verge of tears.

She bows her head as if waiting for punishment. I see that it was quite tactless of me to say something like that Marie and I genuinely feel bad for my blunder. In my past life, my mother never went to college and had to work her butt off to provide a comfortable life for me and her. When I eventually got into a good university, my mother had burst into tears of joy as she finally saw me escape from the confines that had held her back in the past.

I feel a pang in my chest as I think for the thousandth time how much it would have hurt her to find my lifeless body the following morning. Marie looks nothing like Dorothy, Maria’s mother, but she is a surrogate mother to Winter. I hate that I’ve made her feel inferior due to her lack of education.

I slide off the sofa, which is already quite low to the ground but my short legs currently do not touch the floor. Crossing the distance between us in the space between a heartbeat, I pat the top of Marie’s head as if she were a puppy. Logic catches up with me and I remember that a grown woman might not enjoy me patting her head so I just pull her in for a hug.

“I like you just the way you are, Marie!” I squeal with an innocent smile in hopes of rekindling the light in her eyes. Like thawing ice, I can feel Marie give in and eventually we have a wonderful, bonding moment as we hug each other. Thank goodness for this adorable, little face of mine.

Marie is excellent in all other facets of her job other than feeding me information about the palace. I didn’t want to attempt to woo any other mean-looking maids in the Rose Palace into being my accompaniment, but now I have no other choice.

“Marie, I want to meet all the maids working in the Rose Palace,” I eventually say, interrupting our hug.

“Oh? Why, your highness, if you don’t mind me asking?” Marie inquires with wide eyes. The poor woman must be thinking she is about to be replaced as my nursemaid.

“I-I, uh,” I struggle to find a decent excuse for searching for a maid who can be my eyes and ears before recalling something from the webnovel. When Clara had first arrived in this world and had gone with the tried and true amnesia excuse for why she couldn’t remember anything, all the maids in the household had been lined up and introduced to her. I can simply use the same excuse now.

“I’ve never seen everyone who works so hard in this palace for me. Also,” I lower my voice as if I’m telling a secret. “I want to find someone to play with.”

Marie bursts into a wide grin as if she has just won the lottery. I recognize that this is a clever move on my part as Marie runs towards the maids’ quarters as if the floor is on fire. I know it’s been eating away at her to watch me tuck my nose into a book day in day out rather than play with dolls and toys. In her eyes, I’m finally acting like a 5-year-old child.

In no time, every maid in my quarter is lined up, from the steward boys who shine my shoes to the scullery maids who take out the garbage. I gave Marie specific instructions to make sure everyone was accounted for, no matter how menial or insignificant the job was.

Now that every maid has been summoned, I realize I should’ve done this sooner. Some girls slouch, others scowl. Very few appear as if they truly want to be there or at least allow themselves to appear that way. It is clear that none of them respect my authority. Perfect. This will serve as both an attitude adjustment as well as a hunt for a loyal maid.

My eyes narrow as I slowly walk down the line, my hand clasped behind my back. Such an imposing sight might seem silly on a youth such as myself, but internally, I am older than many of the maids here. If I were still in school, I would straighten out their behavior with a few choice words, none pretty. But here, I will have to be a little more careful. I don’t know which of these disrespectful faces serve external parties such as the empress.

As I walk down the line with a still face, I hear a snicker from behind me. I turn my head slightly and behold the maid who has dared to do it. The maid in question is even bold enough to cover her mouth as she laughs, making no effort to conceal what she’s done. After all, I’m just a child from the slums, what would I know about how a maid should treat her boss?

I stop and turn to her, unimpressed with what I’m seeing. She’s a tall brunette whose pretty enough to be cocky about her looks but not pretty enough to woo any man of substance. I’ve seen her here and there tidying up corners of my palace, but this is the first time we are face to face.

I mentally rub my hands together with glee as she smirks down at me. This is going to be too much fun after walking on eggshells ever since I was revealed to be a royal princess.